Kol Nidre Sermon 5785
How to Build a Spiritual Practice in 7 Easy Steps
Over my many years of spiritual learning and rabbinical training, I have sat at the feet of many a great teacher. Each of my Jewish teachers – both rabbinic and lay – impacted me in unique, important ways, shaping my understanding of Judaism, Jews, God and myself. We all stand on the shoulders of giants.
Today, I want to talk about a new teacher at whose feet I – quite literally – sit.
Admittedly, he is my personal trainer. During the first part of my sabbatical, I decided to ‘get active’ and go to the gym. (There is an amusing level of irony to this story, since Agudas Achim synagogue used to be a Gold’s Gym!)
Starting an exercise regime in my 40’s was a big step for me, as it is for many people. What I want to talk about tonight is not bench presses, lunges or cardio workouts, but about how we can engage in a practice, and how that practice can bring us joy, connection and healing.
If you want to develop a practice, you need a guide. So let me tell you about the qualities of my personal trainer. (He is happily surprised to be in my sermon.)
My personal trainer expertly guides me through a program, carefully taking into account what my body can take. He is patient, compassionate, encouraging and firm. He pushes me out of my comfort zone and into my growth areas, without consigning me into misery, harm or trauma. He invites my explicit consent, holds healthy boundaries, believes in me and encourages me when I want to give up (it’s always that last rep!)
The gift he has given me is the belief in myself, and the restored sense of awe I have for this beautiful, sacred vessel called my body. There’s no talk of external judgment; the journey is an inner one; the only motivation to propel me forward comes from myself.
My trainer knows I’m a rabbi. His mind was blown when I told him about the discipline of Yom Kippur: how we fast from food and water for 25 hours while singing, praying and engaging in the choreography of the service. I explained to him that Judaism has been my ‘spiritual workout routine’ for most of my adult life.
My practice of Judaism has taught me so much about self-discipline, finding my dignity and vision, confidence, humility, joy, friendship, community, personal growth and closeness to God. Whether it’s the practice of Shabbat, kashrut, prayer or the ethical actions with which we try to frame our lives: Judaism is exercise for the soul.
If this is the case and Judaism is a practice, then how do we take it and where does God fit into this?
Very often, the conversation about God is binary. You either believe in a transcendent Supreme Being who intervenes and responds to the affairs of humans. Or, you think theism lacks scientific evidence, and that organized religion has a terrible track record. Of course, our synagogues should make space for both theological perspectives—and any in between. At the same time, complicating these views and enriching them with nuance opens up new vistas of personal spiritual growth and Jewish connection. And the key to unlock this dichotomy is to contemplate God as a practice.
But why should we bother talking about God at all? The subject makes many people uncomfortable. God-talk is often neglected in Jewish community. This is precisely the reason why we should think and talk about God—to come to a greater comfort and deeper understanding of our views. During the High Holidays, God is all over our liturgy. And here we are, some of us skeptical, some of us disbelieving, some of us hurt and angry, some of us curious, some of us yearning.
Whatever we feel or think about God is valid. My role is to help Jews gain theological literacy rather than doctrinal certainty. The first thing we need to do is make God-talk not scary, intimidating or judgmental. Instead, we should offer clarity on how to wrestle with God in a Jewish context, as either an idea or as a reality (and perhaps for some, both). I will explain what I mean by this, and why it is relevant.
For those of us who cannot affirm belief in or experience of God as a reality, there is still value in affirming God as an idea. This helps to create a space for Jewish atheists or agnostics who want to belong in Jewish community and uphold Jewish ethics. We should interrogate the value of that idea: what has Jewish monotheism given to the world?
First of all, the Jewish God-Idea creates the outflow of universal human rights. If every human being is created b’tzelem Elohim, in the Image of the Divine, then this has profound implications for how we treat each other.
Secondly, this conceptualization of God affirms that Creation is inherently good (ki tov). This has profound implications for how we treat our planet.
Lastly, the God-principle centers love: both towards other people and ourselves.
Even if we cannot affirm the supernatural reality of a Godhead, the Idea of God argues that no human being is beyond improving themselves, all are worthy of love and life is to be lived joyously, tenderly and gratefully.
Now, onto the second premise—the Reality of God. For the seekers among us, exploring, experimenting with or experiencing God as a reality adds depth to our lives. Capturing the Divine experience is like trying to hold the wing-stroke of a butterfly. Transcendent encounters can be difficult to define and deeply personal. We may feel closeness to God in Nature, art or human relationships. If we’re lucky, we might even feel God in synagogue sometimes! At the same time, religion can make us feel anger, anxiety or alienation. For those of us in search of the reality of God, how do we cultivate safe spaces where we refine our theology and practice, and make ourselves vulnerable to growth and love?
Both experiences are radically different. Is there a way to bring both perspectives—and the continuum in between—together? The unifying element is rooted in practice. Rabbi Shai Held talks about interpersonal love being ‘an existential posture’. The Jewish religious life is a posture and a practice too. It is through mitzvot that we unfold these layers of love: for each other, ourselves, our world and God.
The mitzvot, after all, are seen as a source of joy. Rabbi Shai Held writes in ‘Judaism Is About Love’:
‘Living as we do in a time when God seems hidden and when so many Jews have understandably lost the belief that Go activity rewards good and punishes evil, we have a unique opportunity to fulfill the commandments lishmah, for the sake of serving God… Ironically, then, it is precisely the hiddenness of God that makes deeper piety and commitment possible.’
Rabbi Held argues fervently in favor of a loving God. In fact, countering the Gentile myth that the ‘Jewish God’ isn’t loving is what prompted him to write almost 400 pages why love is central to Jewish theology. At this point, he has established this in his book. However, Rabbi Held is not just a traditionalist; he is also a modernist. He acknowledges that most of us don’t believe in Divine reward and punishment. Rather, the sacred practice of Judaism becomes more and not less meaningful as we face the mystery of God. I like to teach: ‘I believe in a God who is relational but not interventionist.’ Rabbi Held invites us to strip pretense from our Judaic practice, and to see it for what it is: a path to make us better humans and experience – however you should choose to define it – God’s abundant love.
Tonight is Kol Nidrey, an evening that stirs the heart. In 25 hours from now, we will be standing here again for Neilah. The light will fade, the sky will deepen. We will be tired, hungry and thirsty, and probably, also a little bored and fed up. Then, perhaps, something happens. Something indescribable. We suspend disbelief for a moment and we feel vulnerable after all the fasting, prayer, movement—a world out of time. We feel the love of community wrap around us or feel immersed in God’s love. We ascend before the Ark during the final Avinu Malkeinu and offer words we normally couldn’t move ourselves to say. Yom Kippur can be a hard day; a triggering day, a disappointing day. It can remind us of our fallibility or our trauma. But it can also be an open day, a tender day, a surprising day, a day for something pure and authentic. Is there anything we can do to tip the experience towards the latter?
The magnificence of Judaism is that it circumambulates all the paths of our lives. In Judaism, God promises that God loves us; over and over and over again. Despite all our difficulties, Judaism has a relentlessly optimistic and joyful message. Our practice is meant to bind this to the sinews of our soul.
If we want to commit to this spiritual workout, how do we start? I always like to joke that starting with Yom Kippur is like trying to run the Boston Marathon when you’ve never done a 5K!
Here are my tips for a spiritual workout program:
- You are loved. Feeling valued and safe in one’s spiritual practice is essential. You as a person are worthy, precious and beautiful, no matter what journey you choose to go on.
- Make your choice. There can be no coercion in any spiritual path. Freedom of choice and informed consent are always the starting point. Know that you can opt in or out at any time.
- Seek a guide. Turn to a teacher or philosophy that works for you. Go with your gut and do your research. Do you like liberal Judaism? Or do you feel drawn to meditation or Mussar? Do you feel stimulated by traditional practice. Stay true to your spiritual commitments.
- Pace yourself. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. Consistency matters more than intensity. Have a lovely Shabbat dinner once a month if that’s best for you. Say the short Bedtime Sh’ma if the traditional prayer book feels too overwhelming. Set aside regular time for study and reflection. Don’t overwhelm yourself by trying to do it all at once.
- Find your tribe. You can’t do Judaism alone. Find likeminded folks and support each other. Celebrate together, honor milestones together, navigate challenges together.
- Be open. Be open to wonder, surprise, experience and delight. You will change and not know where this road may lead you. To a renewed appreciation for Nature, to a calmness of spirit, re-engagement with Jewish thought or a deeper connection to your inner, emotional self. Be prepared to fall in love…
- Share the love. Give back. Close the circle of sacred practice by helping others walk the path. Become a buddy at the synagogue, join a committee, lead a prayer or invite people over for Shabbat, become involved in community activism or attend a Shivah minyan. The greatest reward is paying it forward and boosting the love.
The choice is yours. Like my decision to work out at age 46, you will know if and when you’re ready. Trust your gut, and be encouraged by holy community. The purpose of the synagogue community is to shine light through windows and to open doors. We gather strength from each other. Allow yourself to be surprised by love, in whatever form it may come. We are invited to step into an annual reappraisal of what Judaism can mean to us, and to ensoul our Jewishness with joy and intention. Grounding ourselves is a precondition for t’shuvah, heartfelt return, and stepping into the sacredness of this day may lead us down unexpected paths. You have been cordially invited. May you be surprised and delighted on the way, with the signposts of Divine love along the way.
